


Catalyst

by IceQueen1



Series: Common Law Pre Series [1]
Category: Common Law (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hospital, Wes Whump, Whump, break ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceQueen1/pseuds/IceQueen1
Summary: Sequel to "Bang" -Something had to be a catalyst for Alex leaving Wes. Something terrible. Something she couldn't move past. Wes whump, and NO SLASH





	Catalyst

The rhythmic beep of a heart monitor was what finally woke him from his three day coma.

Wes blinked his eyes, the harsh light only making his headache worse and his eyes feel grittier than they already were. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and he ached all over like someone hit him with a truck.

His nose itched, and when he finally got his hand to obey his brain enough to scratch it for him, he brushed against a plastic tube shoved up it, looping back around his ears. Perfect. Nasal cannula. That could only mean more fun to come. No wonder his face itched.

As he made to pull it out, a soft, warm hand caught his and pulled it away from the offending object.

"Now, now. You can't go undoing all the doctor's hard work to save you," Alex chided softly, folding his fingers into hers.

He smiled tiredly, returning the squeeze. "Good morning," he mumbled, clearing his throat when his voice came out sounding like he'd swallowed broken glass.

Alex reached for the table next to him where a red cup sat, picking out a couple of ice chips with the available spoon.

"Good evening, actually. They said your throat would probably hurt for a little while, but that it was to be expected. They only just removed the tube this morning." Alex laughed a little, but Wes could hear the tears at the edge of her voice despite the brave face she was trying to put on. "They stopped the sedatives too, hoping you'd wake up on your own. They weren't sure if you were going to, at first."

Wes frowned. "Tube?" he rasped, coughing again. He sounded pathetic, and he hated it. He obviously needed to be strong for Alex, and it looked like his wife was about to break apart. Wes went to lift his arms to pull her close and hug her until she didn't need to cry anymore, but as soon as he moved his right arm, a spike of agony shot through him like he'd been stabbed with a bolt of lightning. He couldn't quite choke off the surprised cry of pain or keep the grimace off his face as his good hand suddenly flew to his shoulder.

"Don't touch it!" Alex gasped, knocking his hand away.

Wes's fingertips barely touched the gauze, but he could feel the bandage was taped from the top of his shoulder all the way up his neck right below his chin.

"What the hell happened?" he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain (and no, that was not a tear that escaped his eye).

Alex didn't answer immediately, but her eyes welled with fresh tears, and that freaked Wes out more than anything.

"Oh God, is Travis okay?" Trying and failing to miserably to sit up.

Alex pushed him back down with disturbingly little effort. "Shh, be still, honey. Travis is fine. You're the only one who…got hurt." She swallowed audibly and tried to give a watery smile, then cleared her throat, much more delicately than Wes's earlier attempts.

"Travis said it wasn't your fault. That the LEO's said they'd cleared the room. When you were handcuffing the first one…the one they missed broke his cover and…" Alex wiped furiously at her eyes. "He shot you in the back…with the other officers just  _standing_ there!" Her voice broke, and the façade came crashing down. "You could've  _died_ , Wes! In a room full of cops because they couldn't do their job right!" Anything else she said was lost in her sobs.

His own pain forgotten, Wes reached his good left arm up to her. "Hey, hey now…don't cry," Wes said, pulling her to him. She collapsed against him, mindful of his injury and simply wept, uncontrollably against his chest. "I've still got one good arm to hold you," he said lightly, stroking her soft, dark hair.

Wrong thing to say, because she started crying even harder.

So he tried for soothing again. "Hey, it's not that bad. I've always been a wimp when it comes to my own pain. I'll be fine."

When she said nothing, he stayed silently, and simply let her cry against him as he carded his fingers through her hair.

Wes didn't know how long they stayed like that, but he felt himself begin to drift again.

"Wes," Alex said, not moving from his chest.

"Mmm?"

"I want you to leave the force."

Wes's hand froze in her hair. "What?"

She felt his sudden change in demeanor, his voice suddenly dropping a degree and all his muscles tense and pushed back from him, wiping at the still drying tears on her cheeks. "I want you to quit the police force and come back to the firm."

"I heard you," Wes snapped, and immediately regretted his biting tone when she recoiled as if he'd slapped her physically. But he couldn't apologize. Not after what she'd just asked. Not when she already knew how this argument played out. How it  _always_  played out. "It's not happening. We've already had this argument."

"Why not?" she asked, her tone and expression going from hurt to angry in less than a second.

"You  _know_  why," Wes said.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Wes! No one can be right all the time," Alex said, a touch of pleading seeping into her voice.

"Tell that to  _him_ ," Wes bit back. No need to clarify who. They both knew exactly who he meant.

"Wes, it was just one time. One mistake! You couldn't have known – "

"I said  _no_ , Alex, now drop it."

"But you are such a fantastic lawyer, honey! Couldn't you do more good as a lawyer instead of a cop?"

"People need more good cops than they need good lawyers. And besides, you'll still be one."

"Wes, you could've been killed," Alex said, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. "One more inch to either side and you would've been."

"But I wasn't."

"Wes, I can't lose you to a bullet!" Alex pleaded.

"You're not going to lose me!" Wes said in frustration. "Most cops go their whole careers without ever getting shot at! It's a one time thing!" Wes threw her own words back in her face.

"I can't live my life wondering if every time the phone rings, it'll be Travis telling me you didn't make it this time. Wes, please…come back to being a lawyer," she said, her voice getting desperate.

"I already told you, I can't," Wes said.

"And I can't stay with you if you won't."

The words were so quiet, Wes wasn't sure he heard her properly.

"I can't watch you walk out that door every morning wondering if it'll be the last time I ever see you. Life is dangerous and short enough without you going out and making it even worse."

"I make it safer for other people, Alex!" Wes said, his voice rising in volume. "I save people's lives out there! If I wasn't there, it would just be someone else!"

"Then let it be someone else!" Alex cried.

"I CAN'T!" Wes shouted, and the rhythmic beep that had been steadily rising with the argument suddenly shrieked in warning.

Wes moved irritably to turn the damned machine off, forgetting in the heat of the argument and his own frustration his right arm wasn't big on movement just then. This time he didn't manage to muffle the scream that tore his already abused throat. "FUCK!" he swore (and he normally never swore), hand clutching uselessly at his injured shoulder.

"Wes," Alex said, moving to stop him from tearing out the stitches.

"Don't touch me!" he snarled, rolling away from her touch, which only fueled the agony.

Alex pulled her hand away as if she'd been burned. "Wes…" she sounded so broken hearted, but Wes didn't care. Why couldn't she just leave it alone? Why did she  _always_  have to push?

"What the hell is going on here?"

The night nurse barged in through the doorway as the alarms continued blaring and took one look at Wes, half curled in on himself and biting his lip so hard he was making it bleed, before rounding on Alex.

"He's supposed to be resting ma'am. I allowed you to stay past visiting hours only because you said you would make sure he did." The nurse's gentle touch on Wes's shoulder belied her harsh tone.

Wes ignored her anyway. His shoulder felt like it was on fire and it was consuming his whole being. It blocked out everything else, including anything Alex or the nurse was trying to tell him, and for that moment, he was grateful for it.

The shrill alarm was gone, and a cool, tingling numbing sensation was going up his arm from the IV. The cool morphine started to soothe the raging inferno that was his shoulder and neck and his muscles started to relax.

"I'll be back in ten minutes to check on him, ma'am. I suggest you say goodnight before then. And don't upset him any further. He needs REST."

The door clicked shut and he and Alex were alone again.

Wes could hear her sniffling, but he couldn't bring himself to comfort her and tell her it was all right. Because it wasn't, and they both knew it. This wasn't the first time they'd had this circular argument, and they never resolved it. It just wasn't spoken about again until the next time Travis called to tell her something happened at work. Travis never meant to scare Alex, but what Travis thought of as "cool" or "awesome", Alex found downright terrifying. Car chases, foot chases, a man with a knife, a jumper...and Travis never listened when Wes forbade him from giving the details to Alex. Travis still thought the only reason was because Wes wanted to tell her himself.

But this was the first time it was something serious. Wes was terrified that this was the closing argument – that obviously being a cop wasn't worth the danger. He'd been shot – in the back – in a room full of other officers. He still had the mindset of a lawyer, and he could see the argument now in his head. And he didn't win this time.

"I'm sorry, honey. I can't stand to see you in so much pain."

 _You should try_ being  _in so much pain_ …Wes thought bitterly. His shoulder still ached, but it was beginning to fade. Much like he was. He could feel the pull of the morphine, but he fought against it with everything he had left.

"I can't watch you beat yourself up about something that wasn't your fault." There was a pause. "I can't…and I won't."

Wes felt his heart stop, and was surprised when the heart monitor didn't catch it.

"I'll pack while you're still here. I'll be gone when you get back. It'll be easier for both of us that way."

Wes heard her stand, and felt her lean over him and he refused to open his eyes as she kissed him on the cheek and carded her hands through his hair. "I love you, Wes. But I can't stand by and watch as you kill yourself."

She straightened, and hurried for the door.

"I love you." She paused, as if hoping he would tell her to come back, or say he still loved her, but he didn't. He couldn't.

The door clicked shut, and Wes felt his resolve collapse. He had never been an overly emotional person, and he'd be damned if he started now. Silently, tears started trickling down his cheeks, soaking his pillow as he turned into it, so no one could hear him.

Not that there was anyone left. He had no one now.

His shoulders shook as he tried to keep what was left of his pride and dignity. But really…he just didn't want to acknowledge it and make it real. If other people saw, if others knew…all of it would have to be real because they would know. And they would make him face it.

The pleasant numbness that crept up his arm and doused the flames finally managed to lull him into sleep. Not a restful one, but one plagued with nightmares. Of faceless gunmen and Alex turning away from him while he lay dying.

CLCLCLCLCLCLCLCLCLCL

Alex watched silently from the observation window in the hall, hand pressed against her mouth as she tried not to cry with him as she watched her beloved husband collapse into himself. She wanted to go to him…oh, God, did she want to go back in that room and tell him she didn't mean it. That she wasn't going to pack up and go. But to what end? She meant what she said about being unable to watch him destroy himself. If she went back, things would only be temporarily patched – like a band aid on a gushing artery.

"Honey, you can come back tomorrow when visiting hours start again," the nurse said, placing a comforting hand on Alex's arm.

"No," Alex said, shaking her head. "I can't go back."

And she turned her back on her husband who'd finally cried himself to sleep and walked out on him. Because she couldn't watch him die. She just…couldn't.


End file.
